Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

Lucas nodded as if he understood, but when he looked at Jeffrey again, his eyes showed a hint of admiration for Jeffrey's ability to endure such humiliation.

Andrew seemed to have thought of this as well, and continued, "No wonder Commander Monet wanted to extort that treasure from him for no reason..."

Meanwhile, Black Fang, bound and kneeling on the deck, watched helplessly as Jeffrey led his men back onto the Fang, and as Bilkin casually spared the great pirate. Instantly, a torrent of resentment surged in his bloodshot eyes.

He was a desperado who followed Red Wolf, and from the day he betrayed the ship with Red Wolf and slaughtered all the crew members of the White Gull, he never thought he would have a good end.

Knowing that he was doomed to die, he lost all fear and began to curse loudly.

"Damn the Federation Army! A bunch of hypocritical beasts!"

He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, which landed on the deck at Bilkin's feet. "That bastard Jeffrey is a pirate too! You leave a notorious pirate alive and turn around and call him brother, what kind of soldiers are you! Just a bunch of cowardly bullies!"

Bill King Kong pulled out his command sword with a "whoosh," the tip pointing directly at Black Fang's throat.

Black Fang, far from being afraid, laughed even more maniacally, leaning forward and letting the cold blade slice through his skin, drawing blood. "What? You want to kill me? Come on! If I even flinch, I'm not a fish on the sea!"

He cursed more and more fiercely, his gaze sweeping over Monet, who was leaning against the ship's railing admiring the view. He spat again, "And you! You pretentious pretty boy! What kind of skill is it to use dirty tricks and magic! If you're so capable, fight me one-on-one with a knife! If you beat me, I'll give you my head as a pot!"

Monet didn't react to his insults at all, as if the dying bark of Black Fang in his ear was less important than the most common wave in front of him.

But Bilkin wasn't so patient. He instantly turned furious and laughed. He sheathed his knife, gestured with his chin towards the two officers beside him, and his voice was filled with barely suppressed rage. "Fine! Fine! You've got guts! I like tough guys like you! Men! Pick him up!"

Two officers immediately stepped forward, grabbed Black Fang's arms on either side, and lifted him off the ground.

Black Fang continued cursing, his foul language pouring out like a tidal wave. Bilkin didn't stop him; he simply clenched his massive fist and slammed it down on Black Fang's face.

"Bang!"

The dull thud echoed across the deck, abruptly silencing Black Fang's cursing. He was thrown back by the blow, blood gushing from his nose and smearing his face.

Bill King didn't stop, and got into position again, punching him hard in the cheek.

Punch after punch, each one landing with tremendous force, causing Black Fang's face to swell visibly. Blood and broken teeth gushed from the corners of his mouth, splattering all over Bill King's hands and body.

Bill King only stopped when Black Tooth's head slumped limply, his teeth smashed to pieces, and he could no longer utter a complete groan.

He flicked the blood off his hands and spat at Blacktooth, who was sprawled on the ground like a puddle of mud. "Shut up, huh? Why aren't you cursing anymore? Where did all that fierceness go? Still calling yourself Blacktooth? I'm changing your name to Toothless, you hear me?"

The dozen or so Black Tooth's cronies kneeling beside him were already pale with fright.

The few people who were just shouting and yelling with Black Fang on the Fang were now bowing their heads low, their foreheads pressed tightly against the deck, not daring to even breathe.

When Bilkin's gaze swept over, his confidants scrambled forward like madmen, frantically kowtowing to him. Blood soon streamed from their foreheads, mingling with the grime on the deck, leaving them looking utterly disheveled.

"Sir, spare me! Sir, spare me!"

"It's all Blacktooth's fault! Red Wolf forced us into this! We were all deceived! We never wanted to fight against the military! We wanted to surrender a long time ago!"

"We confess! We'll never do it again! Please, sir, give us a way out!"

The cries and pleas for mercy rose and fell, forming a stark contrast to Black Fang's reckless cursing just moments before.

Bilkin coldly swept his gaze over the group of cowardly desperados, his face expressionless.

"Shut up, all of you!"

He roared, silencing their cries, and his gaze swept over the group of officers standing on the deck, finally settling on a few men who were completely free of blood.

In the confined space of a ship, especially during melee combat, those who charge to the front are always the ones fighting the hardest. Those behind, whether out of fear or because they can't find a place to squeeze in, can mostly just watch with their knives in hand, at most offering encouragement.

"You lot, step forward."

Several young officers paused for a moment, then immediately stepped forward and stood at attention.

Bilkin pointed to his kneeling cronies on the ground and, expressionless, pronounced their crimes, "These scum plundered merchant ships and indiscriminately killed innocent people. According to the law, they should be hanged, but we don't have the means to do so here. So, behead them. You carry out the execution."

The young officers' faces paled instantly. They exchanged glances, but none dared disobey orders. They could only reply in unison, "Yes, Major General!"

Bilkin then gave the order to the officer who had been holding Black Fang, "Go find that Jeffrey and have him find a few well-known leaders from among the pirates who surrendered on the Fang, and have them all brought out to watch the execution."

The officer immediately responded and ran over. Before long, he brought up seven or eight pirate leaders.

These men, who had just been congratulating themselves on surrendering and escaping with their lives, now looked at the bloodstains on the deck, the black-toothed man beaten beyond recognition, the dozen or so kneeling men with deathly pale faces, and the officers standing by with knives ready to carry out the executions. They instantly understood what was about to happen.

Their faces were deathly pale, and they stood there trembling, not daring to even lift their heads.

That's exactly the effect Bilkin wanted.

Killing these die-hards was not only to eliminate future troubles, but also to make an example of them, showing these surrendered pirates what happens when they oppose the Orentia and have innocent blood on their hands.

"Let's do it."

At Bilkin's command, several young officers took a deep breath, gripped their scimitars, and walked behind the kneeling pirate.

The sea breeze, carrying the salty, pungent smell of blood, swept over us. The deck was completely silent, save for the sound of the waves crashing against the hull.

The young officer at the front, his hand trembling uncontrollably, swung his knife down hard with his eyes closed.

"Pfft—"

The sound of the blade cutting into flesh was extremely piercing, but his strike missed, severing only half of the pirate's neck and failing to decapitate him.

The pirate let out a mournful howl so shrill it was inhuman, his body writhing wildly on the ground, blood gushing from the wound on his neck like a fountain, staining a large part of the deck red.

The wailing echoed far across the vast sea, sending chills down one's spine.